When I was eleven, I went through puberty. My mother sat me down and spelled out the “Facts of Life”. I learned how babies were made. The only man...I wanted to be my mate was Santa.While other girls were dating boys, I kept to myself, making toys. I would fantasize about the big man taking my virginity under the small Christmas tree my father scraped together to buy each year. I would come so hard, I had to bury my face in my pillow, so my parents would not hear.On Christmas Eve, I would drink. I was the one they had to watch for rejection of that organ. As she recovered, Gwen was by my side constantly. She read me the paper, wiped my brow, and even helped to the bathroom. It was a difficult time for me, but I finally was allowed to go home.I laid around for another six weeks or so, before I could return to work. During that time, Gwen was attentive and understanding. She tried hard to be cheerful and upbeat. The kids were back in college, but came home most weekends to see me and. More

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